Its pissing with rain and it is dark. Hardly surprising as it is 730am in mid-November, in London. However, I am still smiling like the Cheshire cat because I am about to embark on my first ever commute by Brompton. Thats right! I have shed the shackles of single speed hipster cycling and become "one of those cyclists".
I did my usual morning ritual of running about trying to find my wallet/keys/pants... and then rushed out of the house ready to jump on my bike. Right. One snag. I need to unfold it first. This is simple and really useful as my eternally patient fiance will attest to, as there are now less bikes cluttering up the living room (or there will be when I finally sell them). Brenda (yes I name my bikes, feel free to judge) neatly sits behind the sofa out of sight. After a bit of fucking about, I finally got the front wheel to be facing frontwards (always handy) and the rest of the bike basically clicks into place. Et Voila! We are off.
Without a doubt I have not smiled this much commuting since I moved to London. This wee bike is a blast. It's akin to the first time you get on a BMX as a kid. But it has gears. A comfortable seat. And I do not recommend taking over any jumps. But the joy and elation I felt taking off took me back about 20 years. So, off to a good start.
As afore mentioned, since moving to London, I have mainly been part of the skinny jean clad fixie fascists, much maligned in the press lately for being hooligans and only intent on trying to wipe out as many elderly women as possible with our death trap bikes. Having not killed many old women recently, I got a bit bored of my single speed and all its wonderful trappings (carrying a hefty lock with me at all times, having to cycle like a deranged lunatic to get up hills, the struggle of getting started at lights etc. etc.). Brenda on the other hand is a dream. I have opted for the 6 speed version giving me the widest range of gears available on a Brompton. The first hill out of our flat (usually a bastard on a hangover) was a breeze. Dropped the gear, sat back and relaxed.
Frankly, the whole commute was brilliant. On the straights there is enough range on the gears to mean you can sit at about 17 mph (according to my Garmin watch) and when you hit traffic you can just toodle about in and out safe in the knowledge that it is a herculean effort to try and get back to speed, in-fact, I found I left most of the roadie riders for dust at the lights due to the teeny tiny wheels.
I got into the office still grinning like Lewis Carroll's feline fantasy, but rather than having to go into the dingy bicycle store round the back of the office (often frequented by our neighbourhood crack addicts and the scene of two bike thefts, one mine) I simply folded Brenda up, got in the lift and jammed her under my desk!
So far, bloody brilliant!
I did my usual morning ritual of running about trying to find my wallet/keys/pants... and then rushed out of the house ready to jump on my bike. Right. One snag. I need to unfold it first. This is simple and really useful as my eternally patient fiance will attest to, as there are now less bikes cluttering up the living room (or there will be when I finally sell them). Brenda (yes I name my bikes, feel free to judge) neatly sits behind the sofa out of sight. After a bit of fucking about, I finally got the front wheel to be facing frontwards (always handy) and the rest of the bike basically clicks into place. Et Voila! We are off.
Without a doubt I have not smiled this much commuting since I moved to London. This wee bike is a blast. It's akin to the first time you get on a BMX as a kid. But it has gears. A comfortable seat. And I do not recommend taking over any jumps. But the joy and elation I felt taking off took me back about 20 years. So, off to a good start.
As afore mentioned, since moving to London, I have mainly been part of the skinny jean clad fixie fascists, much maligned in the press lately for being hooligans and only intent on trying to wipe out as many elderly women as possible with our death trap bikes. Having not killed many old women recently, I got a bit bored of my single speed and all its wonderful trappings (carrying a hefty lock with me at all times, having to cycle like a deranged lunatic to get up hills, the struggle of getting started at lights etc. etc.). Brenda on the other hand is a dream. I have opted for the 6 speed version giving me the widest range of gears available on a Brompton. The first hill out of our flat (usually a bastard on a hangover) was a breeze. Dropped the gear, sat back and relaxed.
Frankly, the whole commute was brilliant. On the straights there is enough range on the gears to mean you can sit at about 17 mph (according to my Garmin watch) and when you hit traffic you can just toodle about in and out safe in the knowledge that it is a herculean effort to try and get back to speed, in-fact, I found I left most of the roadie riders for dust at the lights due to the teeny tiny wheels.
I got into the office still grinning like Lewis Carroll's feline fantasy, but rather than having to go into the dingy bicycle store round the back of the office (often frequented by our neighbourhood crack addicts and the scene of two bike thefts, one mine) I simply folded Brenda up, got in the lift and jammed her under my desk!
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